


Hands

by ES_Rowan



Series: Strange Magic [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hands, Romantic Fluff, talking without words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27608468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ES_Rowan/pseuds/ES_Rowan
Summary: A quick piece about how sometimes, you don't need words to communicate.Strange Magic is a series of snippets and moments in time between Wanda and Vision, in no particular order.Inspired by this gifset: https://tumblrgallery.xyz/post/4450312.html(I cannot find the original, but it is credited to ikknowplaces on Tumblr)
Relationships: Wanda Maximoff & Vision, Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Series: Strange Magic [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2007952
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	Hands

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Marvel or any of the characters.  
> I am using them purely for fun and creative purposes!

He notices her hands a lot more than he used to.

The way she holds her mug of morning coffee as though the warmth from the ceramic and the drink within could seep through her skin and chase away the chill of the dawn.

The way she moves her fingers - scarlet lines of magic flowing around them, serpentine and graceful - whenever she’s deep in thought.

The way she twists her rings around when she’s nervous or uncomfortable.

The way she can say something to him just by a flick of her wrist or the way her fingers twitch.

Today, as he stands by her window, looking out over a city muted by rain and the ever growing darkness, and yet somehow made alive by colour - the glow from the street lights, warm amber from inside people’s houses, city lights and the colours of the traffic; the refracted light in the puddles that look like broken neon rainbows - he notices her hands once more as they reach up to him and her fingertips brush his cheek.

He leans into her touch, presses a kiss to her palm, her hands soft and gentle against his face; a balm that soothes the incessant painful sting of the mind stone as it sings and hisses in his head.

Her concern is reflected in her eyes, in the way she looks at him; serious and grave and he shakes his head, helpless and wordless because he doesn’t  _ have  _ the words to describe what’s happening; what he can hear and feel in his head.

They are lucky, then, that they can speak without words.

She places a hand, carefully, so  _ so carefully  _ upon his brow and with a small smile of encouragement from him, she moves her fingers in that slow, sinuous way as her power flows from her and into him and it’s like the sibilant song in his head is drowned out by the sweet music of her strange magic and when she moves her hand away there’s a sense of loss.

He immediately captures her fingers with his, kisses them one by one; relishing in the way her eyes light up when his hands cradle her head. Her fingers wrap around his wrists and he smiles before leaning down to kiss her as tenderly as he possibly can.

Times like this, they don’t need words.

Their hands communicate well enough for them both.


End file.
